"Do you think about death?" She asks as she stares at the cracks in the wood of the dining table. I begin to shift uncomfortably in my seat across from her. I know why she Is asking me this. I feel tears forming at the corners of my eyes.
She laughs and pulls a pack of cigarettes from her jacket pocket. She picks up the lighter she left on the table and lights a cigarette, tossing the pack on the table. We had been silent for so long, I forgot about the lighter and the coffee in front of me. I even forgot about the ring she had been spinning around on the table. I grimace in response and look down at my lap so she cannot see the tears I let fall.
"You’re a liar." She says finally and I look up to see that she is not hiding her tears. They are trails of light on her face like stars and she sighs, resuming her examination of the table.
"You’re a fucking liar."